Of Things Made to be Destroyed by janeways

Chapter 2: Interlude

After they removed the bodies of the wounded and the fallen, they piled the corpses of the Orcs in a loose pyramid at the edge of the field and set it aflame. It was a common practice among the Elves, just a practicality, really: a way of clearing the land and containing any diseases the Orcs may have been carrying, or that the dead flesh might have attracted. Apparently, among some of the Edain, the practice had led to a folk belief that unburned bodies of Orcs would curse the land, scar it beyond any further use with the pollution of their evil.

Caranthir wondered about that, now, as he stood watching the fire. Whether evil really was an unscourable stain. How it came to be transmitted. He thought of the first Orcs: Elves tortured beyond recognition into mockeries of life itself, their hatred and their bitterness further distilled in every generation. They had not been so different from him, once.

“Do they have mothers?” The voice from behind him was Haleth’s. She moved to stand beside him. Without turning, he answered.

“They must, although in truth, I would prefer not to dwell on such thoughts.”

Haleth sighed. Her mouth was set hard around the edges, but there was a peculiar look in her eyes. She was silent for a moment, and then said suddenly, “I wonder if their mothers teach them to hate us the way our mothers teach us to hate them. I wonder…” She trailed off, letting the question rise with the sparks and ash high into the night air. The sky had finally cleared, and stars twinkled overhead, cold and indifferent and far, far away.

They stood there, together before the flames, long into the night.